


Old Scars

by Notquiteconsistent



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Fluff, I have had this written for months, M/M, What a great story this is, no plot and no porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notquiteconsistent/pseuds/Notquiteconsistent
Summary: Doc is not a morning person. He is, however, easily amused by Wyatt.





	Old Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written for months and I haven't checked it over once. This is the second time I've done something like this.

"C'mon, Doc. Wake up," Wyatt said and prodded his friend. Doc grumbled and buried his head deeper into his pillow. However, a few sharp coughs kept him awake. 

"Fine, you demon," Doc grumbled and sat up. He rubbed his bleary eyes and glared at Wyatt. His hair was perfectly fine, despite him having just been asleep. Wyatt's, in comparison, looked terrible. 

"I can't help when the sun comes up," Wyatt said innocently. Doc's grumpy mumbles only made Wyatt laugh.

Doc stood up and stumbled sleepily over to his bag. Wyatt jumped up and hurried to his own. To Wyatt's surprise, Doc started to unbutton his pajama shirt. 

"Uh, Doc?" Wyatt stammered. 

"Wyatt, will you really be scandalized if you see my bare chest? It ain't like you never imagined it before," Doc said with good humor, recovering from his earlier awakening. 

Wyatt chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. He did have to admit that he wouldn't really mind. 

Wyatt hesitantly unbuttoned his own nightshirt. He looked nervously over at Doc. 

Doc obviously didn't have the qualms that Wyatt did. His shirt was off and he was digging through his bag. He stood up and turned his head to look at Wyatt and smiled. 

Wyatt smiled awkwardly at him and glanced down. Doc was even skinnier than he looked when wearing clothes. On his torso he had small scattered scars, as if he'd been shot by a shotgun. 

Wyatt kept staring at the scars. He couldn't imagine how anyone could survive a wound like that, especially someone so physically weak like Doc. Wyatt was so distracted that he didn't notice Doc watching him right back. 

"Something wrong?" Doc's tone was amused, if not slightly challenging.

"I-I… I'm just," Wyatt stuttered, face burning. He pointed at Doc's scars and jabbed his finger into the air. He knew he was definitely making it worse.

Doc crossed his arms. His eyebrow raised, his amusement obviously wearing thin. 

"The good lord gave you a tongue and the ability to use words for a reason, Wyatt. Either you use those or you let me get dressed," Doc said dryly. 

"How'd you get those?" Wyatt asked quickly. 

"These scars here? I was shot by a coward over a dispute about cards," Doc said, as if it was no big deal. 

"That looks fatal," Wyatt said nervously. 

"It should've been, but I'm a survivor. I did almost bleed to death and was reported dead multiple times, but I survived. I survive basically every gunshot I suffer," Doc said with a shrug. 

"Jesus," Wyatt breathed. "How the hell so you survive that?" 

"I have no goddamn clue," Doc said, then his solemn look turned into a grin. Wyatt started to chuckle. 

"When was it?" Wyatt asked when he had calmed down. 

"Somewhere around Independence Day. God knows if it was before, after, or on. I, for one, could care less. All I know is that it occurred, and it's done. Things tend to get blurry when you're shot, don't you know?" Doc said. 

"No," Wyatt said. Doc looked at him in pure disbelief.

"Now, Wyatt," Doc started. "I know that you're a living legend, but there is no fucking way you keep a perfectly clear head after getting shot."

"I've never been shot," Wyatt said. Doc let out a surprised bark of laughter, which turned into a small coughing fit.

"Now, that's a damn lie," Doc wheezed when he was done. 

"It's the lord's truth!" Wyatt swore. 

"One day, friend, you'll take off all your clothes and we'll prove that for sure. But for now, Creek and Texas Jack must be waiting outside, so we must hurry," Doc said, chuckling. 

"Doc!" Wyatt yelped, face burning once again. Doc laughed at him and pulled out his undershirt, now ignoring Wyatt completely.


End file.
